


Be Mine

by orange_panic_archive



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Bad Advice, Engagement, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Canon Compliant, Sappy, Wedding Rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29420532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_panic_archive/pseuds/orange_panic_archive
Summary: Bolin thinks he is ready to take the next step with Opal, but is stuck on one tiny, itty bitty, insignificant detail. Luckily his friends are there to offer advice. Or something.
Relationships: (background) Iroh II/Asami Sato, Bolin/Opal (Avatar)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Be Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day! 
> 
> Takes place on the sidelines of the Fearless series, which diverges from LOK in season 2, but can 100% be read as a stand-alone one-shot.
> 
> Usual note that I own none of the LOK content.

“I don’t know what to do!” Bolin cried. He buried his face in the crook of his arm. He was so lost. He’d never been set a task so impossible. It was like standing in the third ring in the last round in the pro-bending championship, his whole team knocked into the water, all down to him, only to look down and find out that he wasn’t wearing his protective pads at all but a pink ballerina outfit as the crowd burst out laughing. He felt ridiculous and utterly out of his depth. What if Opal said no? What if she said _yes?_ What if she said no but that she would have said yes if only he’d had a better ring, and that he’d blown his one shot at happiness because he had no idea at all what he was doing?

“Don’t be such a baby,” Korra said, an amused tone in her voice. He heard what might be a slurp of coffee. “You’re overthinking it. Whatever ring you pick out for Opal is fine.”

“No it’s not!” Bolin yelled into his arm. They were sitting at the table in the main house on Air Temple Island, the faint winter sunlight streaming through the window. Ostensibly Korra had been trying to teach him metalbending, but the conversation had quickly devolved. Metalbending made him think of Opal’s family. Rings were made of metal. Bolin had failed at metalbending, and kept failing no matter how hard he tried. Metal… Opal… failure… Finally, he’d simply cracked.

“Yes, it is,” said Korra firmly. She put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “Be grateful you found someone that you like enough to want to marry, and who has a really good chance of saying okay.”

He slowly lifted his head. Unbelievably, Korra was smiling. “But what do I _do?”_ he asked again. 

The Avatar shrugged a little. “Go to the jewelry store and just pick one.”

Bolin let out a yelp. “I can’t _just pick one!_ There are thousands of rings, millions of rings, and they all kind of look like rings but also they’re all so different. How am I supposed to know which one is the one that she wants most?”

“Half their customers are probably terrified people just like you. I’m sure they’re used to being helpful.”

“I tried! There was a man and he asked me all these questions and I didn’t know the answers to any of them. Sizes and carrots and princesses. I… I left.” In truth, he’d run away, ears burning, determined to never show his face on 4th ave ever again. 

“Bolin,” Korra said slowly. For some reason, she looked like she was trying hard not to laugh. “It’s not the end of the world. Opal loves you. Whatever you get her, she’ll say yes. I know she will.”

Bolin wasn’t so sure about that. Opal was so special, and her family was rich and powerful and knew a lot about metal. She was the youngest and the only daughter. Everyone had probably been thinking of her engagement ring since she was born. Not to mention her wedding, and the person she’d marry. If he got off to the wrong start with the ring, the Beifongs might not even let him marry her. They had all kinds of influence. What if they just locked him in some dungeon underneath Zaofu and threw away the key. “You’re not worthy!” they’d shout. “You should have chosen better!” before slamming the cell door closed forever. He wondered briefly if Mako would try to free him, then decided he probably wouldn’t deserve it.

“Honestly, it’s not that hard,” Korra said. She glanced around the room, as if looking for inspiration. “Here, if you’re really worried, we can take a logical approach. Get her a ring that fits her bending style.”

“Her… her bending style?” Bolin had never thought of it that way. None of the radio ads had mentioned bending at all.

“Sure. Opal is an airbender, right? Air is light, it flows through you. So make sure the ring is like that, too. Something airy that won’t weigh her down.” Korra paused, then looked out the window at the flat gray sky. “And weatherproof. I think all rings are weatherproof anyway, but check. If she’s flying around in the rain and stuff you don’t want it getting rusty.”

Spirits, did rings _rust?_ There were so many things he hadn’t even thought of. 

“Light,” he said slowly. “But I thought it was supposed to be big? Like, I’m supposed to sell everything I own and buy the biggest diamond I can afford.” That was more or less what the little man at the jewelry counter had suggested.

“Look,” Korra said. “If it’s stressing you out so much, why not ask around? You have married friends. See what they did.”

***

“Bending style?” Asami laughed. “Of course Korra would say that.” She straightened her arm, sighted the target, and flicked her wrist. There was a little _whuff_ and single, white-hot ball of fire rocketed across the room. It hit the target a bit to the right of center, leaving behind a smoking hole about the size of Bolin’s fist. “But Opal wasn’t always a bender,” she said, as if nothing unusual at all had happened. “That’s relatively recent.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t thought of that. And of course, Asami wasn’t a bender, either. Not that she let that stop her.

She reset the little piece of mecha strapped to her palm, a trimmed-down version of the Equalist glove she called a smacker. Apparently she’d been improving them in her spare time, mixing the air and fire ones she’d already developed to try and make hotter fireballs. After the disastrous role they’d played in the war in the south she’d vowed never to sell them, but that hadn’t stopped her tinkering. This is what Asami did for fun. Honestly, she and General Iroh deserved each other. Terrifying nerds, the both of them.

He’d clearly rubbed off on her, too. As Bolin watched she stepped back, spreading her legs apart as she swept her arm in a wide circle. Then she brought both hands up and seemed to kind of _push._ At the same time she made the flicking motion that triggered the mecha. Fire exploded from her right palm, this time hitting the target dead center. It was a classic firebending move, one that Bolin had seen Mako do hundreds of times. 

“It’s amazing how much that improves the aim.” Asami blew on her palm, as if the smacker had gotten hot, then her pale green eyes met his. She shook her head slightly, stripping the mecha off her hand and setting it on a nearby table. Then she walked over to where Bolin had been watching. “Anyway, as I was saying, Opal spent most of her life as a non-bender. Also, don’t forget, culturally she’s Metal Tribe, not Air Nation. Even if bending style did matter, which it doesn’t, it might not be airbending at all.”

Oh shit. He hadn’t thought of that. “So what do I do?” Bolin asked. “How do I know if she’s going to want something more like what you’d get an airbender or something more like what you’d get a metalbender?”

Asami shook her head emphatically. “Forget Korra. It’s not about bending style, Bolin. It’s about giving someone you love something you think she’ll like, and that will make her think of you when she wears it. It’s more about you than her.”

“It is?” 

“Of course.” She looked fondly down at her left hand. Three large golden gems flashed in the overhead lights of the shooting range. “Like this. It’s beautiful, but it’s also very Iroh. It’s big and intense and kind of ridiculous, and the stones match his eyes. These fire sapphires have been in his family for centuries. I love it, and I love it all the more because when I look at it, I think of him.” 

Bolin pulled a face. That was all well and good when you were a prince and had a bunch of ancient Fire Nation royal jewels on hand that just happened to be the same color as your eyes. What was he supposed to do? He and Mako were orphans, and anyway what kind of ring would remind Opal of him? Something green? Something made of rock? He didn’t think there was any such thing as an earth sapphire. Besides, wasn’t it supposed to be a diamond?

“What does a Bolin ring look like?” he blurted. 

Asami smiled, looking him up and down critically. “Hmm. Well, I’m not sure I should be the one you’re asking. What does Opal like most about you?”

“Um.” He actually had no idea. “I’m awesome?”

Asami burst out laughing. “There you go. Just pick the ring that screams ‘awesome’ and she’ll love it. I promise.”

***

General Iroh shook his head. “It’s not about you at all. It’s about her.” 

They were sitting at the bar at Old Republic, the setting sun glinting off the polished wood as it sank below the horizon. Bolin couldn’t usually afford places on the waterfront, but Iroh had said he was buying because he wanted a steak and Bolin knew better than to fight him. For the most part his friend went along with Asami’s mostly vegetarian diet uncomplainingly, but every once in a while he cracked, and cracked hard. If Iroh needed a meat date bad enough to cut a blank check for dinner at a place like this, it would be cruel to refuse him.

Bolin took a big swig of his beer. “It’s about her?”

Iroh nodded. “Completely.” He picked up his own drink, a large glass of mango juice, and took a careful sip. “At least, in my opinion. The ring is your sales pitch. Your offering. It’s like buying a woman flowers, or any kind of gift. The goal is to get her something that makes her happy, that shows that you understand her and know what she wants. If you can do that, it shows your ability to discern and meet her needs in other ways, and therefore demonstrates your worth as a long-term partner.”

Bolin felt a sudden tightness in his throat. That… that sounded a lot like some kind of test. If he wasn’t able to find the ring that Opal secretly wanted, would she think he could never make her happy? Or even worse, would she be right?

Iroh rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. “It’s rather like those birds from forests around Gaoling, I think.” 

Bolin blinked. Birds? Now he didn’t just have to pass a test, he had to be a bird, too? 

Iroh, perhaps seeing his puzzled expression, went on. “There are these birds that live in the tropical forests there. The brightly-colored males spend the whole beginning of the mating season clearing an area on the ground and decorating it. Flowers, colored leaves, you know. Then, they dance. The females come and go, looking for the male with the nicest space, brightest feathers, and best dance. The idea is that those things demonstrate he has the most strength and intelligence to pass on to her offspring.” Iroh shrugged. “Anyway, I always thought of an engagement ring kind of like that.”

Bolin just stared at him. Over the years Iroh had become one of his closest friends, but sometimes he said some very weird stuff. He had no idea what to do with that advice, none. Korra may have been wrong about matching a ring to Opal’s bending, and he was finding “awesome” to be rather subjective, but at least the girls had said something that made sense. Dancing birds? What was he supposed to do with that?

Iroh’s face softened, as if reading some of his thoughts. “I know it’s easier to say than to do, but try not to overthink it.” He took another sip of juice, then tapped his silver wedding band against the bar. “Bigger isn’t always better, either. There are different kinds of value. Beauty. Rarity. If you get Opal something that comes from your heart, she’ll know. And if she wants to marry you, she’ll almost certainly say yes no matter what.” 

That was easy for Iroh to say. He’d proposed to Asami only a few days before he’d been deployed, and hadn’t had a ring at all at the time. Nor, apparently, had he planned the proposal—something Bolin couldn’t fathom at all. It felt like he’d been practicing for months. He shook his head a little. So, that meant that the ring was both necessary proof he’d be a good husband but also not that important? He was more confused now than when he’d started.

“How’d you know the size?” he asked instead. Maybe he’d finally get something actionable here. Opal had the most beautiful small hands, but he had no idea how that matched up with the numbers that the one jeweler he’d seen had asked for. When he’d tried to describe them, the man had only looked baffled.

The corner of Iroh’s mouth twitched. “I’m sneaky.”

Bolin felt his stomach clench. So much for actionable. He knew he wasn’t sneaky. He was the opposite of sneaky. He was more of a kick-the-trash-can-on-the-way-to-the-bathroom-in-the-middle-of-the-night-even-though-it’s-been-there-for-the-last-two-years kind of guy. 

He swallowed. “How were you sneaky?” 

The general’s smile broadened. “I didn’t have much time, so I’m ashamed to say I resorted to theft.” He didn’t look ashamed. He looked smug as hell. Iroh looked over at Bolin as if he wanted him to guess. Bolin said nothing. He didn’t have the faintest idea what Iroh was hinting at.

Iroh sighed. “I stole her Equalist glove,” he said finally. “The original one was a little big, so she eventually sized it down to fit her hand. She told me once that she intentionally made it a tight fit for the most control. The jeweler was able to measure the inside of the glove to approximate a ring size. Asami wears it on her right, but it was close enough.”

Bolin frowned. Opal didn’t have an Equalist glove. He could take one of her winter gloves, he supposed, but was that the same? Somehow he didn’t think so. They were kind of stretchy. Iroh usually gave good advice, but he was turning out to be the literal worst help at this of any of his friends, despite being the only one who had actually bought an engagement ring.

“Anyway,” Iroh said, “the size doesn’t matter much, I don’t think. Any store can make it smaller. I just wanted to get Asami’s right the first time because I was shipping out.”

“But if she’d already said yes, why did you bother with a ring? Couldn’t you just skip that part?” It was something he’d always wondered. The ring Iroh had given Asami the night before he left had been neither cheap nor an afterthought. Apparently he’d actually had family heirlooms flown in from the Fire Nation in order to get it set on time.

To his surprise Iroh colored a little. “Well… I didn’t know how long I was going to be gone. I guess I wanted Asami to wear something of mine, if she could. If she wanted. Just to remind people that I existed, even if I wasn’t standing there.”

Bolin thought hard as his friend took another drink. Another nature analogy came to mind. “Like when animals pee on a tree?” 

Iroh spit his juice out on the bar.

***

Pabu stared up at him, his amber eyes impassive. 

“I know, buddy,” Bolin said mournfully. He scratched the little fire ferret behind his ears. 

Pabu chittered, leaning into his hand. His fur felt soft against his palm, and oddly comforting.

“But what if she doesn’t like it?” he asked. He didn’t voice his real fear, that no ring would be good enough. 

Pabu chirped. 

“I am _not_ a coward,” he shot back. Pabu just looked at him. Bolin grunted, then buried his face in his hands. “Okay, okay, I am _totally_ a coward!”

He felt the fire ferret’s nose against the back of one hand. He gave him an affectionate nip.

“Thanks.” Bolin sighed heavily, then got up off the couch. He gave Pabu a final look. “You’re so lucky you’re neutered. Ladies are nothing but trouble.”

***

Mako rubbed at the back of his neck. “I, um. I heard you were asking about rings. For Opal.” 

Bolin felt himself blush, his mouth still full of noodles. He actually hadn’t thought to ask his brother for advice. Mako was single, and had never bought any kind of jewelry, let alone an engagement ring. He and Asami had only dated a few months, and as far as he knew Korra didn’t wear jewelry at all. Instead, for her birthday back when they’d still been together he’d gotten her a dozen throwing stars in a nice leather case. Mako hadn’t seen anyone seriously since.

“That’s pretty serious,” Mako said. He poked at his own noodles, but didn’t seem to be eating. “Are you sure?”

Bolin nodded, then swallowed. “Yeah. I think so. I mean, I don’t know how you know. But I can’t imagine not being with Opal. She’s perfect. It’s like…” He tried to think of the right comparison. Opal was cute and fun and soft and helpful. She was tough, too, but different from someone like Korra. She didn’t like fighting, but wanted to use her bending to stick up for others. She was so practical and responsible, too, but not in a stuck-up way. In a way that made him feel safe and important. That he was worth taking care of, and part of a family. His eyes fell on the end of the table. “It’s like the salt and pepper shakers,” he said, grabbing them both and twirling them in his hands. “They’re sort of different, but sort of the same, and it’s just obvious they go together.”

Mako cracked a little smile. “I get it. You guys are great. Congratulations.”

Bolin now felt himself blushing for an entirely different reason. “Thanks, Mako. That… that means a lot, man.” 

“So how’s it going? You find one yet? Korra made it sound like you were struggling.”

“No!” He slapped his forehead. “It’s impossible. Everyone I ask says something different, even Pabu. There are about a billion rings and I’m no closer to picking one than when I started.” He stared morosely into his noodles. “What if I can’t do it? Let alone actually asking her.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mako reach into his coat pocket. “Bolin.” Something about his voice made him look up. His brother looked… nervous? Sad? He could usually read Mako’s moods, but his face was such a mix of emotions it was hard to tell.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Mako opened his hand. In the center of his palm was a ring. When he spoke his voice was rough. “What about this one?” 

It was a reddish gold color, solid on one side but split in two in the front and kind of woven around a large central diamond. It wasn’t the biggest diamond Bolin had ever seen, but it wasn’t the smallest, either, and it was very sparkly. Smaller diamonds had been set into channels on the arms on either side in two swoops. It was light and bright; nothing big and flashy, but beautiful in its simplicity, and the twisting strands of metal looked hard to make. It was Opal’s ring; Bolin knew it as surely as he knew his own name. 

“Wow, Mako,” he gasped. “Where did you… how did you know?”

For some reason Mako looked away. “It was Mom’s,” he said quietly.

Bolin looked up. That was impossible. Neither of them had anything from their parents, nothing but their dad’s red scarf. If they had anything as valuable as a diamond ring he knew Mako would have sold it long ago. His brother was a lot more sentimental than anyone but Bolin probably knew, but he’d never have hung on to something like that if it had made the difference between eating or going hungry, or buying medicine or a few nights out of the rain.

“We don’t have anything of Mom’s,” Bolin said, feeling the need to state the obvious. “I don’t even know what she looked like. How do you know this one is like hers?” His memories of his mother were very few, and mostly seemed to involve hovering around two female legs in a bright kitchen with yellow walls. Of his father he remembered nothing at all. 

“It doesn’t look like hers, Bo. It is hers. I know.”

“How can you say that?”

Suddenly Mako looked guilty. “I… I nicked it. From RCPD.”

Bolin’s jaw dropped. He had no idea what to say. Mako hadn’t stolen anything since before their pro-bending days. And he loved his job as a detective more than anything. The idea that he’d stolen something from the police was almost too far fetched to believe.

Mako placed the ring carefully on the table with a small clink. “At first I wasn’t sure. But a lot of cold cases, people just forget about them. There’s a whole big room in the basement where we keep the evidence in all of these little lockers, just in case something gets reopened later. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. But when Korra said you were looking at rings, I hit on the idea. It took me a long time to find it… I wasn’t sure of the date. But I did. Their personal effects weren’t all evidence, of course, but all their stuff was still there anyway. I don’t know why the mugger didn’t take the rings, maybe they were hard to get off in a hurry, I don’t know. But no one could find any family, so it all just… sat.”

Mako reached into his pocket again. “I have both their wedding bands, too. It’s not stealing, not really. They would have gone to us if we’d been found.” He seemed to be trying to convince himself.

Instead of pulling out more rings though, he set a small photograph on the table. “This was in Dad’s wallet. The police report said the killer just took the cash. He must not have wanted the ID on him. You always say you can’t remember what they looked like.”

The photo was black and white, about 2”x3”, and showed four people posing in front of some kind of metal sculpture. On the left sat a smiling man in his early 30s with Bolin’s bushy eyebrows and rounded nose. Opposite him stood a tall, thin woman with long dark hair and Mako’s pointed chin. Her hands rested on the shoulders of a boy of about seven, his expression rather bored underneath his spiky brown hair. And on the man’s lap sat a younger child in a bowtie, his eyes wide and confused as he looked to his brother for a guess at what he was supposed to be doing.

“Mako… is this…?” Bolin traced his finger over the woman’s face. He didn’t recognize her, but suddenly he knew he loved her anyway, loved her with all his heart. How could he not love someone who looked so much like his brother?

Mako nodded. He didn’t seem to be able to talk. 

Bolin jumped up and leaned across the table to pull him into a hug, feeling his eyes sting and not even caring. It felt like his heart would burst. His noodle bowl clattered to the side. “You are the most bestest brother a guy could ever ask for. You know that, right?”

Mako laughed a little, and Bolin felt his arm wrap around his back. “I love you too, Bolin.” Then he pushed him away. He nodded to the center of the table. “Go get her, Bo. Make them proud.” 

Bolin gazed at the ring, that perfect ring on the table, and felt like he could do anything in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone curious, this is the ring: https://pics.angara.com/catalog/product/SR1437D/RG/GVS2/2.1/1/SR1437D-RG-GVS2-2.1.jpg


End file.
